


Can't See My Face

by crazygirlne



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 2x08 Fix-it, Angst, F/M, Leonard wasn't a hallucination, Squint and you could see coldwave, What am I doing with these tags, sort of, sort of background pre-relationship mick x amaya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirlne/pseuds/crazygirlne
Summary: Leonard wasn't a hallucination like Mick thought.Spoilers for 2x08.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many things that I should be writing right now. I am actively working on three other fics (two Captain Canary and one Doctor Who). So of course, after watching last night’s episode, this is all that was coming.
> 
> This is sort of a fixit for 2x08 in that Leonard isn’t a hallucination, but it isn’t really a happy ending, either.
> 
> Much thanks to newyorkcity_dreaming and Jael for letting me ramble and for the eyes on and feedback. You rock!

**Prologue**

For a while, he doesn’t really exist. It’s just him and an endless loop of his final words: “There are no strings on me.”

_No strings_

_no string_

_no_

Then, after what could be minutes, decades, centuries, things start to come back into focus. He’s able to see things, memories at first, and he thinks it’s just some sort of hallucination, or maybe heaven or maybe hell. He sees his life, over and over, out of order.

And then he sees something else.

He sees the team in 1942. He sees them find Jonah Hex again, sees them battle aliens. It’s his imagination, it has to be, but the visions get more and more solid, easier to control. It doesn’t take long (millennia) before he can walk through them, solid, able to touch and feel but not interact. He speaks aloud in the bridge when everyone’s there, ready for their reactions, ready for what actually happens: nothing.

Scowling, he continues to watch them. Raymond is still a nerd, and there’s another one just like him on board now. Sara does beautifully as captain, but when she’s alone, he still sees her pain. Stein is wrestling with some major demons, and the kid is keeping an eye on him. Mick, with the help of the other new recruit, seems to be teetering on a precipice between losing himself and becoming someone new.

Leonard has been on that particular precipice before, and the fall was marvelous, terrifying, until it wasn’t.

He continues to watch, seeing things more than once sometimes, missing things other times. He’s able to stay with the team, though, and he doesn’t move to a new reality until he tries, not as often. It doesn’t take long before he feels the need to try harder to interact. Speaking to the whole room hadn’t worked, but maybe one-on-one would have better results.

**Raymond**

He starts with the science nerd. Not that Stein _isn’t_ a science geek, but the older man is dealing with more, and Leonard thinks this is more up Raymond’s alley, anyway. Besides, he’s a little miffed about the whole cold gun thing.

At least if Mick was gonna give someone his cold gun, it could’ve been someone cool. At any rate, Leonard figures if he maybe isn’t dead, if there’s any way to get back to normal, the science nerd is his best bet.

He finds time when Raymond’s alone, harder now that he spends time training and geeking out and arguing with Nate. Leonard stands next to Ray, running a solid, incorporeal hand over the equipment he’s working on, then turns to stare at the man.

Nothing. There’s no reaction to being watched, no reaction to being glared at. Leonard takes a deep breath and speaks.

“You could at least be working on something useful, Raymond,” he drawls. Can a voice be rusty from disuse without even having a body to exist in?

There’s no reaction from Palmer. He tries again, needling, shouting, and even coming close to pleading.

“Come on, Raymond, you’re the one most likely to help.”

Nothing. After an angry shove at equipment that goes nowhere and one last sigh at the unaffected man, Leonard leaves, letting everything go black ( _no strings_ ) while he considers his next move.

**Jefferson**

He decides to try the kid next. Kids are supposed to be more open to these kinds of things, right? Plus, he shares a brain with the professor, so he’s gotta be receptive to unexplainable communication.

Jax is working on some part of the Waverider when Leonard makes his move.

“Doesn’t anyone around here do anything but maintenance?”

Nothing.

“Obviously, people don’t listen,” Leonard mutters. He tilts his head. “Not that anything’s changed there from before I-- Whatever it is I did.” Leonard sighs, watching the kid work. The younger man is confident, comfortable, easy with the mechanics. He’s seemed more comfortable with people, too, with his role on the team.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Leonard tells him, resigned in the knowledge that he won’t hear. “People can actually see you, for one. You might not be that close to anyone on the team, but you fit. You belong. You can do some real good.” He stops, glaring, then turns and walks out of the room. “Tell anyone I said that, and you’re dead.”

He strides through the hallway, not really sure of his destination, wondering (not for the first time) whether _he_ is the one who’s dead. He’s been working on the assumption he’s not, that he’s just in some different sort of form, because or else, why bother? Besides, if he were some sort of ghost, wouldn’t he see other dead people, too?

He ends up staring at the room where he, Mick, and Sara tended to gather, to play cards or to clean weaponry or just to get away from the people on board who actually had their shit together. It’s empty, save for the ever-present boxes, and Leonard slides to the grating near the bottom of the stairs.

He can’t continue like this. If he’s not going to give up, then he has to actually try. He has to attempt contact with someone he cares about. That’s gotta have better results.

It’s going to hurt, though, he knows it already. He can see their faces, see them _not_ seeing him, not knowing he’s there. Leonard swears to himself and lets go.

He floats in the nothing for days.

**Mick**

He doesn’t talk to Mick right away. Instead, he follows him, watching. His partner seems to think about him often. Leonard isn’t sure whether it’s because of his presence or because he would think about him anyway. Either way, Mick’s not doing so great, his behavior erratic as he tries to figure out whether he’s a good guy or a bad guy.

Mick doesn’t do gray areas well, and it’s taking a toll. The balance had been hard enough for Leonard, but he’d had help.

And see where that had gotten him.

Mick seems to have Amaya. She’s pushing him toward the side of good, and Mick seems to follow Leonard’s train of thought, seems to end up realizing that it can only end in death and destruction. Leonard can see the panic in his eyes sometimes. Others, especially when Amaya is around, he seems calm, not quite resigned, but almost content in the way his path is turning.

Again, Leonard is familiar with this. He remembers the feeling. He’s not saying he’d go back and change his past, but if he hadn’t listened, hadn’t let Sara and the rest of the team help him turn into a good guy or whatever the hell he’d turned into, then he wouldn’t be here today, watching, unseen, barely existing.

Before he speaks, he knows he needs to talk Mick down. He needs to save him from this version of reality.

When Mick actually sees him, Leonard’s too pissed, feeling too protective to handle it right. He lashes, he snaps, he says whatever he needs to in order to protect Mick. Leonard is hit hard with memories of Mick protecting him when they first met, and he fades out, coming back more frustrated than ever.

Finally, he stops. Mick stands there, resigned, and Leonard feels like an ass. He’s done enough harm, and Mick’s finding his way without him. Leonard can’t watch if his friend is going to destroy himself.

So he doesn’t.

_no strings on me_

**Stein**

Except he isn’t ready to give up. Not for good. He decides to try again, someone less painful this time. The professor seems to have regained his grasp on reality, so Leonard tries to make contact.

It doesn’t work. He snarks, he insults. Leonard even threatens to go haunt the professor’s new (but not _new_ ) daughter, but to no avail. He doesn’t try as long as he should, maybe, but he follows Stein to the bridge, stomping behind him, just one set of footsteps making sound.

He stops. The whole team is there, or at least, the team as it exists now. It’s not like Leonard hasn’t seen the team yet, even relatively recently, but at this moment…

It’s shit. It’s fantastic and it’s shit because he wants so badly to be here again. To be part of the team or to give them all the finger and walk off, he’s not sure, especially looking at Mick, who’s sneaking glances at Amaya. Leonard’s not really here, and he may never be again, but he wants to be, so badly he can taste it.

Sara’s separated herself from the team. She’s in the room, but she’s sitting alone. Her gaze shifts from the team, from the people she’s watching with an absently fond grin, down to the floor. The smile fades, and she stills.

Leonard’s familiar with that particular brand of stillness. It comes from knowing things have been shit, from knowing that right now, even if they aren’t perfect, they’re pretty damned good, from trying to ignore the fact that things could be better, could be _so_ much better. It comes from things still being shitty, but being in control of all of it. It’s regret and tentative hope and responsibility and pain.

He walks over to her without actually deciding to, and he puts a careful hand on her shoulder. She inhales, turning her head

and looking right through him.

Leonard lives with the nothingness for weeks.

**Nate**

He comes back, because of course he does. Of course he can’t just say “fuck it” and leave. He isn’t ready to try with Sara, and he’s tried the others he knows, so he’s left with the new arrivals.

Leonard knows he _could_ try Mick again, try telling him straight out instead of… Whatever it is he’d done to his friend the first times, but he’s not so sure it’s a good idea. Mick seems more settled now than he did, and being so sure Leonard is a hallucination, the visit would probably do more harm than good.

Again.

He finds Nate sparring with a punching bag.

“Your form’s all wrong,” Leonard says, leaning against the doorway. Nate, of course, continues to punch as he has been. “You’re not lining up your arms right, and you’ve gotta put your body into it, move your hips. You’re punching like you’re made of steel, but you’re not right now.”

_Thwack, thwack, thwack._

“Gonna get yourself killed if you go up against someone who can get past the whole metal thing.”

Nate pulls back, wrist aligned correctly this time, fist solid, rotating his hips into the swing in what would be a strong, competent hit, finally. Only, he turns silver at the last second, and cloth and sand go flying.

“Crap,” the man says to himself, skin reappearing as Leonard snickers. Nate looks over his shoulder, then back again when the doorway looks empty.

Leonard’s chuckles die down, but he doesn’t disappear this time.

**Amaya**

Amaya reminds him of a wild animal, Leonard decides.

He doesn’t mean this as an insult, not even inside his head. She’s alert, even when she’s comfortable. She can go from half asleep to completely on guard in two seconds, and she’s something to watch in action.

Leonard doesn’t try as hard with her, because he can tell she is completely relaxed in her room, with the door open so she can hear anyone coming. He stomps, he growls, and she doesn’t so much as twitch.

He leaves her alone, but he doesn’t leave the ship.

**Sara**

It’s time, he knows. There’s only one person on the ship he hasn’t tried one-on-one.

Sara’s in her room, staring up at the ceiling from her bed. He walks near her, leaning against the bed as he has before.

“Sara,” he tries, the word coming out strangled along with the last of his hope. When she doesn’t respond, he leans more heavily against the bed, all his strength gone. “I needed you to hear me,” he says. “I needed you to know I’m here. _I_ needed to know I’m here.”

Everything is wrong. If he can’t be here, then he should be gone, not trapped in this in between with his tenuous grasp on reality. He’s not ready to cease to exist, but he can’t be here, either, reminded of everything he’s lost.

“Goodbye, Sara,” he exhales, gathering his strength.

“I’ve been hearing you,” she says as he turns to leave. “Sometimes, I’m sure you’re still here.”

He spins back to face her, but she’s still staring up at the ceiling, not looking in his direction. He moves to stand near her head, and she closes her eyes.

“It’s not like I _need_ you to be here, you know?” she says. “But you were my friend. I could use your advice sometimes. Could go for a game of cards, or maybe seeing where that kiss led, or just someone who gets me.”

Sara opens her eyes and looks straight at him. “Leonard,” she whispers, but there’s a resigned disappointment in her voice that tells him she doesn’t believe he’s here. “I wish you were real.”

_No strings_

_no strings_

_NO STRINGS_

He manages to keep his hold on reality, and he leans forward, Sara watching him as he moves. She stays completely still, her eyes fluttering shut again as he kisses her. It’s an odd sensation; he can feel the softness he remembers from his final minutes, the slight chapping of her lips, but there’s no give, and he knows even before he straightens that she didn’t feel a thing.

“Goodbye, Leonard.” There’s finality in her tone, and he swallows. He walks out, leaning against the wall in the corridor.

He can’t be here right now. They aren’t ready, or he isn’t, or maybe both. But he _does_ exist, he knows it, and he won’t give up, not for good.

When the time is right, Leonard Snart will be back.


End file.
